


Collars and Crowns

by Vexatious



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Autophobia, Blood and Injury, Brotherly Love, Childhood Memories, Close Bond, Fear of Abandonment, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little lord, Lovable Mutt, Mild Language, Swapfell Alphys, Swapfell Papyrus - Freeform, Swapfell Sans, Swapfell Toriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 13:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12818448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexatious/pseuds/Vexatious
Summary: In Swapfell, monsters cannot be trusted, so is it any surprise that the Swapfell skeleton brothers suffer from autophobia?





	Collars and Crowns

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on [Tumblr](http://vex-bittys.tumblr.com).

His Lord’s missions for the Queen took him further and further from home for ever-increasing lengths of time. Mutt wondered if Sans merely used his lofty status in the Royal Guard to distance himself from his worthless brother. Sans had pried the Captaincy from Alphys’ unwilling claws; he’d achieved his lifelong ambition. Why would he ever bother to look back?

Maybe someday he wouldn’t.

Maybe someday he’d forget his former life and everything associated with it.

Even Mutt.

Especially Mutt.

The thought haunted Mutt’s every waking moment, from each time Sans departed to his long- and longer- awaited returns.

* * *

 Sans hated the wild goose chases and fruitless assignments that kept him away from his home in Snowdin. Their monarch, Queen Toriel, was equal parts shrewd and paranoid. Rumors flew when her husband, King Asgore, vanished. Most believed that Toriel had murdered him to protect her place on the throne. Others whispered that he had fled to the Ruins to escape the machinations of her suspicion. Since then, her delusions of treachery had found a new focus- the Captain of the Royal Guard. The Mad Queen designated complicated busywork to her personal Guard to deter imagined plots of regicide.

Sans ground his teeth in frustration. He’d been running an espionage mission for well over a week now and getting absolutely nowhere. His failure had nothing to do with lack of skill- there simply wasn’t any information to gather. Each assignment from the Queen turned into a ridiculous waste of his exceptional talents and valuable time, and resentment swelled in his soul. Make no mistake, he cherished his status as Captain. The title represented all of the hard work and struggles he’d endured to eke out a place at the top, but the position also had some glaring drawbacks- not least of all, its effect on his brother.

 Time after time, after he finished chasing every red herring, interrogating every accused monster, and leaving not a single unhelpful stone unturned, he would report back to the Queen. She never criticized his efforts. She simply accepted the folders of disconnected and thoroughly pointless leads with a studious expression before dismissing him for a few days of rest. Sans would drag his exhausted body to his residence only to find his brother in a state of decrepitude that directly corresponded to the amount of time he’d been gone, ranging from wearing unwashed clothes to sleeping in a pile of empty liquor bottles, but Sans had never been away this long before.

He stumbled wearily through the front door only to find the house unusually cold and empty. Plans of scalding hot showers and fresh, clean clothes took a backseat to a crawling unease within him. He told himself that he shouldn’t worry. Mutt had probably just gone to Muffet’s, yet Sans couldn’t shake the undercurrent of anxiety tugging at him, telling him to find Mutt now. A proper Captain of the Royal Guard shouldn’t be running down the street in a panic just because his brother is out late, but the worry constricting Sans’ soul deepened with every hurried step he took. He nearly kicked Muffet’s door off the hinges when he arrived.

His eyelights raked the empty bar. No Mutt. No patrons at all in fact. Something was definitely wrong here.

 “MUFFET!” the short skeleton monster snarled into the silence. A round lavender-hued face with five sparkling black eyes peered out from the kitchen area. “WHERE’S MY BROTHER?” Muffet’s purple complexion paled to nearly bone white, and rage bubbled up within Sans as his worst fears crowded his mind. Had Mutt grown tired of waiting for his always-absent brother? Had his inattentiveness caused him to lose the only monster he’d ever felt close to? Had Mutt… abandoned him?

“There was… an incident,” Muffet said evasively, obviously not wanting to incur the wrath of the Maleficent Sans, Captain of the Royal Guard, but Sans’ patience had long since dwindled away to nothing.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BROTHER?” Wooden tables exploded into splinters as bone attacks erupted from the floor. Sans’ eyelights blazed blue-violet as he stalked forward. Fuck subversion; he wanted Mutt’s location now!

Muffet attempted to duck back into the kitchen, but Sans used blue magic to grab her soul, dragging her through the doorway to stand under his baleful glare. “He got into a fight, and I kicked him out. I’m sure he’s just fine. Ahuhuhu.” Muffet forced a laugh. Sans grabbed her slim neck in his leather-gloved hand.

“WHERE DID HE GO? THINK CAREFULLY, MUFFET. I WON’T ASK AGAIN.” Bone attacks rained down onto the counter, narrowly missing Muffet’s thrashing arms.

“I told you I kicked him out! I don’t know where he went!”

“IT SURE WOULD BE A SHAME IF YOU HAD TO LEARN TO LIVE WITH JUST TWO ARMS LIKE THE REST OF US….”

“He picked a fight with Doggo! They followed him out! I didn’t see anything else I swear!”

The bone attacks vanished as Sans sprinted back out the door. If Mutt fought with Doggo, the other dogs of the Snowdin Guard had probably gotten involved. Mutt wasn’t a weak monster, but he couldn’t fight so many opponents, especially since he’d likely been drunk. Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_! How could Mutt do something so stupid without his brother there to take care of him?

Sans quickly scanned the snow outside the bar.  _There_! Disturbed snow, the tracks of several monsters moving quickly, leading into the forest towards the river. The farther Sans ran into the trees, the more churned up the ground became. Crimson stained the snow, but thankfully, he saw no monster dust. Sans cursed his short legs for not carrying him faster.

With the trees blocking what little artificial light shown at this time of night,  Sans could no longer follow the trail. He began to scream his brother’s name hysterically, not caring who heard him or what they might think.

“MUTT? MUTT! ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!” Sans vowed to raze the forest to the ground if that’s what it took to find his brother when he stumbled over a shape half-buried in the snow. Sans dug frantically, flinging the powdery substance away from the prone figure with both hands. His frenzied efforts revealed what he’d both feared and expected- the unconscious form of his brother, but a body was better than dust. A body could be saved.

Sans lifted his brother’s limp form only to discover a disturbingly large patch of crimson snow underneath him. Mutt had clearly sustained severe injuries, but Sans couldn’t waste time assessing Mutt’s condition out here in the wilderness. He had to get his brother back to their house before the scent of blood, of weakness, attracted dust-thirsty monsters looking for an easy kill.

 Sans struggled with the awkward burden of his brother’s lanky frame. It was impossible move quickly without jostling Mutt and potentially causing him more harm. Particles of dust floated free of Mutt’s skull. Sans chose to risk inflicting worse trauma to his brother; if he didn’t, he might not have a brother much longer. He could apologize to Mutt after he recovered.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING DIE!” Sans growled, dropping Mutt into a snowdrift to adjust his grip. With one hand around each of Mutt’s ankles, Sans sprinted to their house, dragging Mutt behind him and leaving a wide streak of bright, glistening blood and thick, heavy dust in his wake.

Sans couldn’t perform healing magic to literally save his own life, but if Mutt could survive the journey home, Sans kept healing supplies in his travel kit. Mutt just had to hold on. He had to. Sans didn’t even notice the tears overflowing his sockets and dripping onto the trampled ground of Snowdin’s main thoroughfare. His emotionless facade crumbled as he focused every iota of his being on saving Mutt’s life.

Sans had never been so happy to cross the threshold into the familiar surrounding of home. He quickly laid Mutt on the couch and emptied his supplies onto the floor, roughly shoving items aside until he found what he needed. Uncorking a small vial, Sans poured the concentrated healing magic straight down Mutt’s throat. For several nerve-wracking seconds, dust continued to rise from Mutt’s body, but finally, finally it subsided. Mutt would survive.

Sans carried his brother up the stairs and settled him into his own luxuriously appointed bed for observation. He needed to assess the extent of Mutt’s injuries and set any broken bones to make sure they would heal correctly. Despite his lack of healing magic, Sans had a vast knowledge of first aid. The life of a skeleton monster living in a kill or be killed universe demanded it.

Sans carefully removed each article of his brother’s clothing, disgusted by the state of them. They hadn’t been clean before Mutt bled on them, stains layered on top of stains across the wrinkled and torn fabric. Sans tossed them aside, deeming them unsalvageable. The one thing Sans didn’t touch, however, was Mutt’s collar. He would never dare to remove such an important symbol of their relationship.

* * *

_As babybones, Sans and Papyrus had often scavenged in the dump.  Sorting through piles of discarded odds and ends provided them with clothing, books, and objects of value that could be traded for food. On most of their visits, Papyrus stood guard while Sans climbed the piles in search of treasure. On this particular occasion, something had caught the lanky skeleton’s eye. Papyrus retrieved his prize, holding it aloft for his brother’s scrutiny.  
_

_The expertly crafted leather collar was the same deep burnt orange as Papyrus’ magic, and it bristled with golden spikes that matched the tall skeleton’s replacement tooth. Despite being discarded at the dump, the collar appeared to be in excellent condition._

_“How much do you think it’s worth?” Sans had asked, dazzled by the shiny metal._

_“I’m not going to sell it. I’m going to wear it,” Papyrus proclaimed, fastening the accessory around his neck._

_“You’re not a dog,” Sans laughed. The collar did look good on his big brother. It made Papyrus look intimidating, even more than usual._

_“I am your loyal guard dog, Sans. I’ll always be here for you, to protect you, no matter what!” Papyrus playfully mimicked an obedient sit position and feigned a very doglike pant._

_“You’re such a lovable mutt,” Sans had declared, hugging his older brother tightly. Papyrus never removed the collar after that day. The nickname “Mutt” had stuck, although it had evolved over the years from a term of endearment to a word uttered in bitter exasperation._

_No matter how badly he neglected his health and appearance, Mutt never failed to maintain his beloved collar. He polished the gold spikes and cleaned the leather regularly with a special oil to keep it pliant. Sans knew that other monsters viewed Mutt’s collar and name as a token of disrespectful ownership, and the small skeleton began to wonder if his brother had also forgotten its true meaning._

* * *

 Unchecked fury surged through Sans as he took inventory of the numerous injuries on his brother’s body- bruised and broken ribs, left arm radius and ulna horrifically twisted and splintered, widespread marrow-weeping lacerations, and a deep fracture in Mutt’s skull. Whoever had helped Doggo to do this would suffer well and truly before they dusted. There could be no mercy for such transgressions, and no force under the ground or above it would prevent him from his vengeance.

Sans bound Mutt’s broken bones. His brother would have more scars because of this. While he worked, Sans also noticed the distinct reek of hard liquor around Mutt’s face. His brother had been too drunk to fight, too drunk too flee, too drunk to crawl home. A realization chilled Sans to the proverbial bone. What if he hadn’t made it back in time? What if he didn’t make it back next time? He paced the floor in agitation, waiting for Mutt to awaken. It would be a long and agonizing wait.

Mutt’s wounds healed, but he remained catatonic. Sans stayed by his side, declining to answer his constantly-ringing phone. He ignored the letters of summons piling up in his mailbox. He ignored the messenger pounding on his door at all hours of the day and night. He could not, would not leave his brother’s side for any reason. He owed Papyrus that.

Sans couldn’t understand why his brother wouldn’t return to consciousness. He’d carefully dressed Mutt in comfortable pajamas, bundling him with plush blankets and fluffy pillows to keep him warm and comfortable. He’d managed to spoon soup into his brother’s mouth, and Mutt had swallowed it. He’d bathed Mutt with cool sponges to soothe the burn of his healing bones, but nothing would bring Mutt out of his coma. Sans begged, reasoned, and demanded that his brother come back to him, but nothing worked. Days passed. Sans refused to give up hope. He’d dust before he failed his brother again.

Choking down his pride, Sans even tried calling Undyne, the Royal Scientist, but the only answer she provided were her condolences that his brother was falling down. Sans hung up, not accepting the diagnosis. Letting the phone clatter to the floor, Sans crawled into his bed next to Mutt. He summoned his soul, which pulsed with a soothing rhythm, and placed it next to his brother’s ribcage.

“Please come back, Papyrus. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me alone. I need you,” Sans whispered the words like a prayer as tears dripped from his sockets onto Mutt’s unmoving bones. Sobbing, Sans pressed his tear-streaked face against his brother’s chest. “I need you. Please. Please wake up.” His small frame shook.

A large hand lifted from the bed to caress the side of Sans’ face, brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing. A shaky voice called to him: “M’Lord?”

* * *

 Sans had been taken aback the first time Mutt referred to him as his little Lord. He’d been young and full of wide-eyed wonder as he steered their adventures through the Underground under his older brother’s watchful eyelights. The affection in his brother’s gaze made him proud of the nickname, as proud as Mutt had become of his own moniker.

“You can’t call me Lord! We owe our fealty to the Crown,” Sans had scolded halfheartedly.

“You are more important to me than anything else, including the King and Queen. I swear my loyalty, my soul, my very life, only to you, my little Lord,” Mutt had responded somberly. Over time, seeing that Sans would remain short and might feel self-conscious about it, Mutt had dropped the diminutive.

Sans had never once doubted or corrected his vow.

* * *

 In the space of a moment, Mutt’s arms and legs were wrapped tightly around his brother, clutching him in desperation and pressing their bodies together. “M’Lord. M’Lord. You came back. You came back!” Sans didn’t push Mutt away. Instead, he allowed himself to sink into the safety and comfort of his older brother’s embrace.

“Ridiculous Mutt,” Sans murmured into Mutt’s sternum, not bothering to hide the wetness on his cheekbones. Mutt wouldn’t judge him, especially not with his own joyous tears dripping onto his little Lord’s skull. “Of course I came back. I will always come back to you.” Sans rubbed Mutt’s skull, a reassurance to Mutt and a confirmation that this moment was, indeed, real. “Now tell me what happened.” Sans’ tone turned ice cold and dangerous.

Mutt nuzzled his brother’s hand, hesitant. The circumstances leading up to his ill-fated battle royale with the Snowdin dogs involved Sans being portrayed in a less than flattering light. Mutt would rather preserve his brother’s feelings than admit he’d nearly died defending his honor.

* * *

  _Though he couldn’t remember exactly how much liquor he’d consumed at Muffet’s that night, in addition to the bottle of fire whiskey he’d chugged before stumbling down the street to the Spider Queen’s establishment, it would be safe to say that Mutt was well and truly plastered before the Snowdin Guards had arrived. Their raucous banter had grated on his frayed nerves, ruining his latest wallow in self-pity. Sans had never been gone so long before. Maybe this would be the time he left for good._

_Mutt began nursing his umpteenth drink, but as he tipped the glass, looking for answers at the bottom, he’d heard Doggo’s gruff voice vocalizing his brother’s name in a contemptuous tone._

_“-still can’t believe that fucking runt, Sans, is Captain of the Royal Guard.” The other dogs laughed derisively._

_“The Queen surrounds herself with weaklings so they won’t be a threat,” sneered another bitchy canine whose name Mutt never cared to ask. He only knew Doggo because they smoked together sometimes out behind the bar._

_“I could break that little shit in half,” Doggo boasted ,”but that meager EXP wouldn’t be worth the effort. The only reason he’s still alive anyway is that he’s Toriel’s little fucking lapdog.”_

_“With his fucking mightier-than-thou attitude it won’t be long until someone dusts his pathetic ass though. Then Alphys can be Captain again.” The screech of a stool sliding across tile silenced the Guards’ wagging tongues. When Mutt turned around to face them, wisps of orange magic swirled around his glowing left eyelight._

_“Keep talking shit about my brother, and I’ll tear your fucking jaw off.” Mutt managed to deliver the threat without a single slurred syllable, but Doggo didn’t back down with his pack of friends egging him on._

_“So where’s your precious baby bro now, dumbass? He took off the second he got promoted and never looked back. Even trash like him wouldn’t want to associate with a piece of shit like you.” The other dogs didn’t even have time to laugh at the insult before Mutt’s fist smashed Doggo’s face, dislocating his jaw and sending him crashing across the table._

_The sounds of scuffling and broken glass attracted Muffet’s attention, and she kicked the entire rowdy group out of the bar to carry on their fight in the privacy of the Snowdin forest. Thanks to his inebriated state, Mutt hadn’t fared well after landing the first blow, but despite their vicious smalltalk, none of them dared to dust the Maleficent Sans’ loyal Mutt._

* * *

 “I got really hammered. I don’t remember.” Mutt avoided his brother’s eyes, knowing Sans could see right through the lie. The smaller skeleton didn’t address the deception at all. That business could be left for another day.

Sans snapped back into his lordly persona in an instant, shoving Mutt roughly away from him. “DO YOU THINK I’M STUPID?” Mutt flinched as Sans spat the question at him, but he didn’t get the chance to respond before Sans continued. “DO YOU THINK I HAVEN’T NOTICED YOU BACKSLIDING? DO YOU THINK I DON’T CARE?”

Mutt couldn’t answer because deep in his soul, he did think that perhaps Sans had moved on with his life and didn’t need his worthless, helpless mutt of a brother anymore. Sans read the silence and the accusation written all over Mutt’s face. The words Mutt had spoken earlier replayed in his head: _You came back._

 “YOU REALLY THOUGHT I’D SNEAK BACK TO LIVE IN THE CAPITOL WITHOUT YOU?” but it wasn’t a question, and they both knew it.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, m’Lord. Without you, I have nothing. Without you, I am nothing. It’s not a life I want to live, but I won’t hold you back. You have power, prestige, money… You don’t need me anymore.” Mutt stared off into the past, or possibly into some bleak and lonely future that only existed inside his mind.

Mutt’s words tore at Sans’ soul. Things had only been this bad once before, the other time that Mutt had almost fallen down and been lost to Sans forever.

* * *

  _The skeleton brothers were living in an apartment in the Capitol that Mutt worked several sentry jobs just to afford. Sans had been walking home after the artificial lights had faded into deep shadows, carrying some groceries for a surprise home-cooked meal for his hard-working brother. He never saw his assailant; the attack happened too quickly. All he accurately recalled was a piercing, burning pain in his face and gurgling screams as his mouth filled with blood._

_The wound to his skull had been severe, leaving him with three deep, permanent furrows over his left socket. He’d nearly died, and Mutt, overreacting to the danger to his brother, had unleashed a flurry of monster dust as thick as a Snowdin blizzard right there on the narrow street. Completely out of control with grief and rage, Mutt rampaged and fought until an elite team of Royal Guards, led by Alphys herself, subdued him._

_They’d relocated to Snowdin so that Sans could heal, but even as the younger skeleton regained his strength, he could see his brother struggling. Mutt believed he had failed to protect Sans, and the scar across his Lord’s face stood as a constant reminder that his younger brother could’ve been killed in an instant. The smoking had started, a nasty habit to calm Mutt’s nerves that never really worked. Next Mutt had taken to drinking, and gambling and fighting soon followed. Mutt ran his life into the ground, self-destructing in what he saw as a fitting punishment for his shortcomings._

_The more Mutt slacked off and neglected himself, the more the responsibilities of their lives weighed on him. The simple task of sentry duty overwhelmed him, and Sans feared his brother couldn’t last much longer under such pressure, burdened with the nagging, endless fear of inadequacy. In the end, Sans had shouldered the mantle of leadership for both of them. He’d joined the Royal Guard to alleviate their monetary problems, and he’d set up a rigorous schedule for Mutt’s day that most certainly did not include drinking, smoking, or other vices._

_And it had worked._

_Things had been fine for awhile, but Sans’ ambitions wouldn’t let him settle for a lowly position in the Royal Guard. He’d challenged Captain Alphys and won, achieving a title he’d long dreamed of and a secure future, or so he thought, for himself and his brother. That’s when the missions had started, and the self-destructive behaviors had returned in force in Sans’ absence. This, his brother trembling beside him on his bed with self-deprecating, suicidal thoughts swirling through his mind, was the culmination of his achievement, and it sickened him._

* * *

 “MONEY? PRESTIGE? POWER? THOSE THINGS ARE WORTHLESS!” Sans spat angrily. “I TOOK THIS JOB TO PROVIDE FOR YOU, TO EASE THE STRESS OF TAKING CARE OF ME. I TOOK IT TO SAVE YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE THE ONE FUCKING THING IN THIS MISERABLE LIFE THAT MATTERS TO ME!” Sans’ shouting almost masked the loud thump coming from downstairs, and Sans hissed at the interruption. How dare someone knock on his fucking door while he spoke to his brother?

Sans grabbed the front of Mutt’s pajamas and shook him. “WHAT GOOD ARE MONEY, PRESTIGE, AND POWER TO ME WITHOUT YOU? YOU STUPID, STUPID IDIOT!”

“The Captaincy,” Mutt sputtered. “Your duty-”

The Captaincy. That fucking title had done this… no. Sans had allowed this to happen. He hadn’t paid attention, hadn’t been attuned to Mutt’s needs, and because of his negligence, he’d almost lost Mutt for good. Never again. It would never happen again; Sans swore it upon his very soul.

“Sans,” growled a voice from the doorway to Sans’ bedroom- Alphys! The thumping sound had been the ex-Captain letting herself forcibly into his home. “The Queen sent orders that were not be ignored. You have an assignment, and you are to leave at once or risk being found guilty of treason.” Alphys grinned at the idea of the arrogant skeleton being taken down a notch.

Risk treason, or risk his brother’s life? Sans returned the grin with a malicious sneer of his own.

“FUCK. THE. CROWN.”

Alphys’ mouth dropped open in momentary shock. “You can’t be serious! You are Captain of the Royal Guard, your position dictates-”

“I DON’T WANT THE FUCKING POSITION. CONSIDER THIS MY RESIGNATION.” Sans ripped the delta rune from his uniform and impaled it into the floor with a bone attack. Alphys narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

“You’re vacating the position?”

“TAKE IT, ALPHYS. MAKE UP SOME STORY FOR THE QUEEN. I DON’T CARE. A MONSTER CAN ONLY SWEAR HIMSELF TO ONE ALLEGIANCE. I’VE CHOSEN MINE.” Sans reached over and patted Mutt’s skull affectionately. “My lovable Mutt,” he mouthed silently before returning his focus to the hulking lizard warrior.

“JUST REMEMBER THAT THIS CONVERSATION DOESN’T LEAVE THIS HOUSE, OR MY LOYAL GUARD DOG HERE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN LIKE THE HOUNDS OF HELL. YOU’VE SEEN WHAT HE CAN DO, ALPHYS.”

Mutt glared, and Alphys gulped, tasting the thick choking dust from that fateful day. She did not want either of these skeletons as an enemy. “Of course.”

“NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. MY BROTHER REQUIRES REST!” Sans slammed the door on Alphys’ retreating form.

“I’m not tired, m’Lord…”

“GET IN THE BED.”

Mutt obeyed, holding up the blanket so that Sans could nestle against him. His younger brother fell asleep almost immediately, finally giving in to the exhaustion that had plagued him since he’d arrived back in Snowdin and, finding his brother half-dead, been unable to seek the solace of slumber.

“Sleep well, little Lord,” Mutt murmured contentedly, pressing a chaste kiss to his baby brother’s forehead.


End file.
